Scoring
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: Tony goes to Tim's apartment in an attempt to get him to live a little. He finds that Tim lives more than he thinks.


It was after ten when Tony knocked on the door of Tim's apartment. He'd been trying to enjoy the Friday night, their first real night off in more than two weeks (they'd suffered a double weekend shift due to a case that had SecNav breathing down Vance's neck), but it had been troubling him too much. And that's why he was here instead of throwing back a beer with that blonde bartender who'd slipped him her number.

With the relief of the day's end, Tony had let out a loud whoop of joy, attracting the attention of his team (all, likewise, exhausted). He'd asked about their own plans for celebrating the weekend. Gibbs didn't respond, but one didn't have to think hard to figure out that his time would be spent in his basement. Ziva said she had planned to catch up on her reading. Tony, of course, made it no secret that he wanted to go out and enjoy the night life.

And Tim? He had simply shrugged, stating he'd just stay in with his latest computer game. He was up to the seventh level already and hoped to complete the tenth by Monday. He had the fourth highest score in the game so far, and he had no intention of losing that.

_Once a geek always a geek_, Tony supposed, shaking his head sadly. What a waste. Sure, he liked to engage in brainless fun now and then, and he certainly had killed his share of time with computer games, but to spend a whole weekend doing that? It boggled the mind. Life was meant to be lived first-hand, not wasted in front of a computer screen and keyboard.

He hated the idea of Tim being holed up in his apartment, not likely to see the light of day until Monday morning. So he'd left the bar after only one drink, determined to make Tim live a little. He felt responsible for the kid, like an older brother. Tim needed to throw caution to the wind sometimes, to go out and get a taste of mischief. It wouldn't kill him. Hell, it built character. Besides, how's a guy supposed to meet a girl when he only interacts with his computer?

Tony was going to drag him out of that apartment by force if necessary, and show him what he was missing.

There was no response to his knock so Tony knocked once again. Light spilled out from under the door. He could hear the music playing softly from within.

Again there was no answer, and again he knocked, this time adding, "I know you're in there, McGee. The lights are on and I can hear the music. Now open the door."

He pressed his ear against the door just in time to hear a muttered curse word and the sound of someone inside stumbling.

When Tim opened the door he was breathless and red in the face. "Tony! What…what are you doing here?"

"Saving you from yourself. You're coming out with me."

"What are you talking about?" Tim asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "I told you; I'm busy tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you told me, but I think the other elf lords can live without you for one night."

"Tony, I'm fine," he insisted with a roll of his eyes. "I don't know why you're busy standing here talking to me instead of out enjoying your own weekend."

"Because I don't want you to waste away your weekend. Now are you going to let me in? Didn't your parents ever teach you matters."

"Look, Tony, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but I don't—"

He held up a hand, stopping the protest before it started. "Not another word, McGee. Who knows? You may even find yourself in the arms of a beautiful young miss tonight. I think that would beat cozying up to your computer."

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but another voice—a distinctly feminine voice—came from inside the apartment.

"Timothy?"

Tony raised an eyebrow and curiously pressed his hand against the door, pushing it back so he could see inside. Tim relented and stepped back, allowing Tony to see the blonde woman standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was leaning out to see what the commotion was, keeping the lower half of her body concealed, but it was evident to Tony that she was wearing one of Tim's NCIS shirts…and nothing else. A blush crept into her cheeks when she saw him and she took a step back into the bedroom until only her face was visible. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," she said. "I'll be here…waiting."

"So that's the 'new game' you're working on?" Tony asked when the bedroom door had closed behind her. "I've got to buy me one of those."

"Okay, okay," Tim grumbled as he tried to push the door closed. "As you can see, I'm a little busy and can't go out tonight."

"Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie."

"Oh ho, methinks you did. You said you're working on reaching level ten on some stupid computer game, and yet there sits your computer, off and untouched. If you'd said you had a hot date, I would have left you alone tonight."

"No, you would have needled me for details until I cracked and told you that we met through an online game. Then, I'd never have heard the end of it.

"Hey! Give me a little credit here! I don't poke jokes at you about dating!"

Tim gave him a look. "Tony…"

"Fine," he conceded with a sigh, "I admit it; I can be a little…"

"Nosy?"

"Curious. But hey, it's part of our job to be curious! And anyway, don't I get points for trying to help?"

Tim had to agree there. "Yes, okay, I know you're heart was in the right place tonight. But, Tony, the next time you have the urge to 'save me from myself,' would you mind calling first?"

"I make no promises," he said with a broad grin.

"I guess that's better than nothing," Tim said with a wry grin. "Now if we're all done here, I would like to get back to enjoying my evening. If you knock on my door again before Monday, I will personally sic Jethro on you," he said as he closed the door.

"Hold up!" Tony said quickly as he pressed a hand to the door to keep it from closing.

"What?"

"Any chance she's got a sister?" he asked teasingly, giving his eyebrows a wiggle for effect.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Good night, Tony." And with that, he slammed the door, ready to get back to…well, Tony didn't even want to think about what was going on in Tim's bedroom at that moment.

In a way, Tim hadn't been lying about his plans that night, Tony mused. He said he wanted to score that weekend and it looked like he had.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>This was my fourth entry in the LFWS challenge. Thanks for reading!


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